Pain. Not the pain he's used to, the aches of bruised ribs, age-worn joints, too-tense muscles. Not the more present ache of a bullet hole or a stab wound. Something far more present and pressing, all-encompassing.

But then, he realizes, almost triumphantly, that might be logical after being blown up. But when can he remember being blown up? Why can he think back on it, and remember the blue-green-black-purple rush of the Timestream absorbing him and the blue of the Oculus when it exploded, ending the tyrannical reign of the Time Masters?

He sits up, then marvels at the movement. The time between being blown up and now, whenever now is, are something he remembers, too. He remembers being infinite and eternal, rushing from the start of Creation to the very End of it All, he remembers seeing Everything and feeling the memory of his brain fizzle out. Humans were not intended to see the Timestream, and though he had paid for it with his physical body, his anger, his wrath, his stubborn will and self-knowledge seemed to keep something of him together enough to exist even in the Timestream. Until the Timestream spat him out, altered, back into a body that he could have sworn was his, even if he didn't have a vague memory of it burning up, shattering apart under the pressure of the explosion. But Time simple Is, and Time does not want to carry him along in the Timestream. Time doesn't need him there. Time listened, when the Spear of Destiny called home a lost brother, a lost partner, a lost friend.

And now he, too, Is again.

Leonard, he realizes, recalling his name again. Leonard Snart, aka Captain Cold. Villain, thief, criminal, hero, Legend. Dead... But no more. He stands, gritting his teeth but missing the customary stinging in his knees. His eyes narrow. There is pain, but not the kind of pain he is used to, has been living with for years and years. He looks down at his hands, flexes his fingers and runs them through a few exercises he used to do to keep them limber and flexible when age and cold wanted them to stiffen up. His left held myriad little scars, where he nicked them on tools, the right far less so, after having been made anew. His eyes trailed elsewhere, as did his hands, sensitive finger pads feeling out the scars on his back and chest. It was his body, but it was... Different. His eyes narrowed some more as he realized he was not wearing anything. Nudity was not a state he preferred: he was not ashamed of his body, still in excellent shape despite being a bit older than most of the others on the ship, but he was a private man, and his scars were his, not for sharing.

He stepped away from the bed he'd been on, a little wobbly for the first two steps but his willpower triumphed again as he continued, got used to working legs again. There were clothes at the end of the bed, and he dressed quickly, somewhat uneasily. The more layers he wore, the calmer he became, until he grabbed his parka. A headache sparked behind his eyes, and he clenched them tight against it. He was no stranger to them, but this one was different. With some effort he straightened and grabbed the parka again, now identifying the headache as also containing a part unease - he wasn't meant to exist. "Aberration," he muttered, the headache lessening as he identified its cause.

"Great,", he continued, still softly. "Now I'm a living aberration detector?" Something in the back of his mind seemed to hum affirmatively, and Leonard almost startled. Almost, because now that he had a body again, he also had control of his reflexes, and he'd always made certain his body did not betray what was going on inside his head or heart.

Sara knew it wasn't one of the smartest things she'd ever chosen to do but the desire to have both her sister and Leonard back had caused her to finally choose to save them both with a little help from Mick and members of Barry Allen's team in Central City. No one questioned the reasons behind her decisions, in fact Mick had been the most supportive of her decision and part of her knew it was because Mick wanted Leonard back about as much as she did. And that reason had been why she had gone to Mick first before anyone else and she was glad she did.

As Leonard slept, both Sara and Mick paced the hall of the waverider, waiting for him to wake up, not exactly sure what he would remember or know. Sara's eyes moved from the bed where her older sister laid to the one where Leonard laid nearby, keeping an eye on them both. Gideon had treated Laurel's injury and had been able to do so without the other canary having the embolism that would have ended her life if she had been back in Star City instead of being tended to by Gideon. Sara was thankful the AI didn't ask too many questions as Mick had carried Laurel in with Sara close behind him calling out orders.

She left Mick keeping an eye on Leonard and Laurel and went to see how things were going with everyone else on the rest of the ship since she was still the captain. She knew she could have put Ray or Jax in charge but she needed to distract herself because she was having a hard time being patient waiting for Leonard and Laurel to wake up. Stepping up to the controls she took a seat in the captain's chair and prepared to speak to Gideon, opening her mouth to speak but before she could say a word a noise behind her caused her to turn and search for the noise that had caught her attention.

Her eyes moved to the screen that showed a section of the waverider and held on the monitor, watching Leonard leave the room where she and Mick had been standing and waiting for him to wake. She had no idea where Mick had gone to though something told her he'd more then likely gone to get something to eat or to get a beer. He was more then likely trying to stop himself from becoming so impatient, just like she had been. "Gideon, tell Jax he's in charge for now. I have something I need to do." She told the AI.

Before Gideon could reply, Sara turned and left the bridge, heading to where she'd last seen Leonard, her strides quick, eating up the distance as she picked up her pace, anxious to speak with him for the first time since his death. She hurried around the corner and was so busy thinking about what she would say to him that she didn't take much notice of her surroundings so it was no surprise when she ran right into someone. She stumbled back, "I'm sorry." She apologized, "I wasn't watching where I was going."

The ship felt strange as he wandered through the empty corridors. Gideon was quiet, though he hadn't addressed her yet either. He wasn't sure he was ready to make it all that real already. And every corner he rounded, every door he saw, held echoes of his past, held memories. It was hard still to separate himself from all of history and future, which he had seen when he'd been dead. Or in the Timestream. Whatever it had been precisely, he didn't know, and while he knew that he had seen everything, a human brain was not meant to know that much, and had not retained it all. But it felt like his brain had retained parts that weren't his, and left out other parts. He was still gathering all his pieces together, and for that reason perhaps he was a little less attentive to his environment as he should be.

So when somebody bumped into him, old reflexes kicked in, muscle memory present even though his body was literally still new. One hand rose to steady the person, the other lightly frisked her until he felt a slight bump and with a soft, soft touch, lifted a small throwing dagger from her body. Part of him remembered why it made sense, part just felt satisfied that apparently, his old kleptomaniac habits also had survived, as had his light ans swift fingers. For years, his light touch had meant food and money for him and his sister, and a reputation that meant he could pick his crew, rather than make do with whomever he could convince to join him for a heist. It was his mind that had truly made him a 'big league' criminal, but his hands had been the start of it, and he had to admit that he had briefly wondered about his dexterity.

"Assassin," he drawled out when they had separated again, tucking her knife away purely by habit, smirking ever so faintly at the slighter, blond woman, a kindred spirit of sorts in this world of theirs that no longer stuck to normal limits, but had heroes and villains, superpowers and time travel. Neither of them were hero material exactly, between their pasts and their skills, and he had liked her realistic approach to life. she wasn't idealistic like the do-good hero types were, more gorunded and aware of the shades of grey that made up a life.

Even thought it had been over a year since the last time that Sara had felt Leonard's light touch the moment he reached out and steadied her she quickly recognized the familiarity of it, reminding her of what it felt like, telling her she hadn't forgotten it like she sometimes wondered if she would remember it. She wasn't even sure why she had wondered from time to time if she had forgotten what it felt like. Even though she felt him lift one of her hidden throwing knives from her body she ignored it, that being the last thing she was concerned about at the moment, especially when she heard his nickname for her fall from his lips for the first time in what felt like years..

She'd get the knife back later or just lift it from him before leaving his side after they talked. Besides it wasn't like she didn't have other throwing knives because she had a whole arsenal of them it seemed, though most were packed away in the cargo hold with a lot of her weapons she carried with her from Star City when leaving to meet with Rip nearly two years before when the Legends had first formed to help Rip Hunter kill Vandal Savage and save the world. It was amazing how much things had changed since Sara had first met Leonard and the rest of the team.

She lifted her gaze to meet Leonard's eyes, recognizing that familiar smirk of his, one of the things she had missed most about him. Relief shown in her eyes and she held his gaze, making no move to escape his light touch, just happy to see him awake and know that he remembered her, that he recognized her. "Crook." She breathed out softly, her lips beginning to lift in the slightest of smiles. There was so much she wanted to ask him, so much she wanted to tell him about so many things, including all the things that had happened after he'd blown the Oculus up.

It almost felt as if no time had passed at all, her calling him crook in that somewhat affectionate way she had. It felt like the old days, but he was pretty certain things had changed, if only because, from what he had gleaned so far, the young woman had taken the laws of physics and destiny for a ride. It explained, in a roundabout way, why he was there again - and why the infirmary had another occupied bed. And that really had been a headache; or one waiting to happen, he supposed, because bloody hell, her sister was supposed to be dead, and whereas he had a habit of disappearing and returning home, laying low and being off the grid and then returning again, he thought he could spin a 'the rumors of my death were greatly exaggerated', although his face already hurt at the thought of how hard Lisa was going to slap him.

Laurel, on the other hand, seemed to have been somewhat of a fixture in society, and aside from her fledgling vigilante career, also a lawyer or some such. Not his favorite type of people in general, and he held little hope for that whole thing not ending in a mess. Until then, though... "I feel like I've missed a few things," he drawled, aware that it was a huge understatement. When he'd... Died, they were still fighting Vandal Savage (and really, that name still cracked him up inside), and now... Now things seemed to be quite different. There were glimpses, snatches he remembered - the girl who channeled the traits of beasts, the man who turned to steel, his past self joining the Legion of Doom... Apparently, it'd been a turbulent year - and yes, that pun was intentional. The Timestream had felt not unhappy about the freedom of the Oculus, but the resulting mess the timeline turned into... Well, he wondered if that was why the Timestream had let him go with a little present. Joy.

Sara had no regret for the choice she had made to save Leonard and her sister. She knew she could have screwed time up in a big way but since time was already majorly screwed up because of her decision to depower the Spear Of Destiny rather then just change things back to the way they had been before the Legion Of Doom had created Doomworld. She knew that de-powering the Spear had been a better choice rather then leaving it powered up so that Thawne would have had the chance to change things all over again. At least Thawne was gone now and wouldn't be coming after them ever again. At least she hoped not.

"You could say that." She said, lips lifting again into the slightest of smiles and her head dipping in the slightest of nods. "It's kind of a long story and probably not anything you want to hear about standing here in the hall the entire time." She said lightly. She knew this was her Leonard and not the cold hearted jerk that had been working with the Legion Of Doom. That Leonard had been more then willing to kill anyone who might get in the way of getting what he wanted. He'd proved that by killing Amaya in Doomworld as the version of her from that world had told her and the others.

"Believe me when I say that it's a story you're going to want to sit down for." She offered, not wanting him to think that she just didn't want to explain things. She knew he was going to want to know why she had done what she'd done and he deserved that answer but the hallway wasn't exactly where she wanted to give it to him.

There was something proud and defiant about Sara that made him wonder a little, but he reckoned hisself being here, as well as Laurel probably answered why she felt the need to look defiant, be it on purpose or not. She didn't seem like the type to betray emotion so easily, but on the other hand, they'd gotten along quite well Before. They might actually tell each other the truth, show each other more emotion than they usually did - which, in his case, was about the same as an iceberg. He wasn't emotionally repressed, as his sister sometimes told him. He was in tune with his emotions, he just rarely showed them on his face or with words.

The faint smile and nod made him feel slightly anxious for what she had to tell him - she didn't get nervous easily, or bashful, and there was something about her that hinted at those exact feelings. He knew their so-called team was a mess at the best of times, often managing to succeed by sheer luck and determination. Truthfully, he was still somewhat in awe with how much Lady Luck was smiling down on them that he had been the only one they had lost, and even that had been something of a choice rather than true bad luck, although it wasn't for lack of 'trying' to get killed.

And though he wondered if she was stalling, or not wanting to explain everything, she amended her initial denial with something softening it up, telling him he should sit down for it. "Ominous,"he responded, but almost meekly followed her down the still-familiar hallways of the Waverider towards the almost-cozy 'living room'. Idly, he wondered if his quarters were still his, and if so, if his belongings were still there. His fingers itched for the Cold gun, for the ring he had bequeathed Mick (or slipped in his pocket, but that sounded... Less somehow) and for his own clothes. Though he wasn't cold per se, he might be willing to indulge in some luxury today and spoil himself by wearing the thick, warm and almost homey parka that had so long been part of his 'villain costume'. He also missed the goggles, casually hung from his neck as they usually were when he anticipated the use of his gun. He wasn't feeling particularly vulnerable or naked because he wasn't in his usual outfit, but the lack of familiar layers did make him feel a little off. He was a creature of habit, in a rather roundabout way, and though his body was very new still (strange to think of it, that way), habits were apparently mental as much as physical.

Sara had no idea what had happened to Leonard after the Oculus blew up. She often wondered about it though. Did he become a part of the time stream or did he just vanish and become no more? She also couldn't help but wonder if he had felt any of the same things that she had felt when she died or maybe he felt something different things that what she had felt. She wasn't sure now was the time to talk about any of that, not after she had just risked everything to save him and her sister and to be honest she'd do it again in a heartbeat. She could feel him studying her and couldn't help feeling a little nervous under his gaze.

She couldn't help but be surprised when he didn't immediately begin firing questions at her or become angry with her that she wasn't exactly explaining things to him but then maybe he could tell that it was so much more then that and that they did need some privacy so she could tell him everything. She couldn't help being a little surprised too when he followed her down the hall to one of the rooms which just so happened to be the one he had used when he had been with them on the Waverider, working with them all as a member of the team. "All your clothes and stuff are still here." She told him as they stepped inside, "Mick and I insisted that everything was left as is." She explained softly as she turned back to face him.

"Mick still has your cold gun." She told him with a slight smile but the smile didn't stay long on her face before slipping from her lips. "So much has changed." She told him, "I know you may not agree with what I'm going to tell you but I'm tired of losing people I care about and to be honest I think Mick felt the same way because he helped me do it. He helped me save you and my sister.".

I've got no strings To hold me down To make me fret, or make me frown I had strings But now I'm free There are no strings on me

It surprised him that she was fairly laid-back about his return. Granted, she had made it happen, with Mick's help -of that he had no doubt; the man might not always seem like the brightest bulb of the lot, he was pretty clever in his own right, never mind his many, many years as Chronos- but that didn't change the fact he had gone from gone to present... And it wasn't like they conveniently had a Lazarus Pit and his body present, what with his body having been obliterated. He wondered idly if she had considered such issues as well, or if her heart had guided her more than her brain had. Either option felt likely, at this point.

He was a little surprised when they diverted to the subject of his thoughts, to know his quarters. They seemed to have been untouched, a little dusty at the lack of use, insofar there was dust in a spaceship. And though her reassurances were a little unnecessary, given that they had an actual fabricator on the ship, but it was nice to know they hadn't thrown out his stuff as old garbage. Because while his clothes could be replaced, there had been a few items here that... Were a little less. Such as invaluable things he had stolen. He wasn't really bad at hoarding, used to running at the drop of a hat if a heist went bad, but some of his more precious or sentimental items he kept close. He wondered if she had her or Mick to think for it, but she explained already, and with a faint smile he opened one of his drawers, rummaging through it to see the glimmer of of green.

The mention of the Cold gun had him a little off balance. Though he supposed it wasn't a common choice of weapon, he would have thought that it might have been stashed somewhere in the back, a painful memory of a lost partner and team mate. His smile grew at the thought, wider and a fraction warmer. Perhaps it was strange that he was so attached to the gun, but it had brought him a great many good things with relatively little problems. "It'd be a little hypocritical of me to berate you, wouldn't it?" he stated, still smirking a little. Not that he'd done something of this magintude, per se, but he'd done a few foolish things in the past too, even once tried to change the timeline. Unsuccessfully, but he doubted if that counted. "I'm... Glad to be back," he admitted, tough he wasn't wholly certain of that just yet. Things were different, and he was a little reserved on what exactly was different and how that'd influence him. But that were concerns for later. For now, he just wanted to be brought up to date. "How's Mick? And Lisa?" he finally asked, prioritizing them over the team.

Sara wondered if she should offer to get them both some food or something to drink before she told Leonard about everything that he'd missed since he'd given his life to save all of theirs over a year ago. She knew that telling him everything, especially all the stuff she'd need to go into detail about would likely take a couple hours and she knew he might want something to eat or drink before they settled in for their talk and her explanation. And of course she probably should have Mick join them because this really involved all three of them since it had been Sara and Mick both that had been involved with saving both Leonard and Sara's own sister Laurel.

She returned his small smirk and watched for a moment when Leonard opened the drawers in his room and began going through his things. It didn't take her long to figure out he was likely searching for things he'd brought that meant something to him. She turned from him and turned her attention from him to speaking to Gideon for a moment. "Gideon can you find Mick and send him to Leonard's room and have him bring some beer and pizza along with him please?" She requested of the AI. "Certainly Captain Lance." Gideon responded. Sara smiled, "Thank you Gideon." She said and then turned her attention back to Leonard.

And it was just in time too because Leonard had turned his attention back to her, her lips raising in more of a smirk that was more like her then any smirk she'd offered him since they'd collided in the hall, "I guess it would be."She said lightly, relieved that he seemed to have no intention of berating her. At least he was one person she wouldn't have to worry about doing so. Her smile widened when he told her that he was glad to be back, "And we're glad to have you back." She told him honestly. When he asked her about Mick and Lisa she smiled, "Well Mick can tell you himself as soon as he comes in." She told him, "And the last time we were in Central City i checked on Lisa myself. She misses you but she's doing well."

I've got no strings To hold me down To make me fret, or make me frown I had strings But now I'm free There are no strings on me

He heard Sara address Gideon, and though he listened with half an ear, the other half of his attention was firmly locked onto the contents of the drawers. His bigger treasures were likely safe back in Central City or the secret stash he'd found on the Waverider, but that wasn't what he was looking for. Ironically, he also possessed some items who had a nearly purely sentimental value. Pictures of Lisa figure skating, a necklace from his first ever solo heist. Things like that. Those were still in place, though he was short one picture of him and Lisa - he could picture it clearly, both smiling bright and proud after Lisa had placed in some figure skating competition. In that picture, they were almost a normal family, if you ignored the absence of actual parents in the picture. He wondered if Mick had taken it, but found he couldn't really care now. He was antsy to be caught up on everything that had happened, in addition to seeing Mick himself, and soon dear Lisa too, he hoped. He missed his sister.

Leonard didn't respond to her admission she was glad to have him back to; given that she had fairly raised him from death, it seemed a pretty big damn given that she had missed him and wanted him back. That, or he was an epic clusterfuck and mistake, which wasn't exactly hopeful. He didn't think his renewed presence was an accident, though. "Good," he stated, glad that Lisa was doing OK despite his no-longer-permanent absence. She was a tough woman, as he had raised her to be, and she had grown used to him not being a helicopter parental figure/brother, as they had both deviated onto their own paths of life. She wasn't as entrenched in the criminal world as he had been; would be, again, if it were up to him, and her records had been a damn sight better than his own, pre-deal with the Flash. She could live a normal life if she wanted, if she let him go.

He hoped she had, actually. Not because he wanted to be forgotten, not because he thought he had left so few memories with her or so little impact on her, but in the long run he had been toxic to all those around him. He was a thief and a criminal to his core, and sometimes, he felt like he had tainted her with that. Other times he revelled in her beauty and her cruelty, her exhilaration at going on a heist with him or breaking him out of jail. "And you?" he asked, getting closer to the crux of the matter. If he had to wait for Mick, he had to wait, and he was fine with that, to a degree. Patience was one of his trademarks, after all. But she seemed to carry confidence and authority around her like it was a cloak she was entitled to; she had become one of the central axels the crew spun around, he thought. Her story would likely go a long way explaining stuff.

She made no attempt to intrude on Leonard's search through his things. Even she knew he was checking to be sure everything was still as it had been before his death and that made her glad that she'd remained firm with Rip and the others and not let anyone put Leonard's things in the cargo bay of the waverider, knowing it would have made his death just that much more real then it had already been. Of course when Rip and the others had argued with her, Mick backed her up, agreeing with her which made her relieved the others had finally backed down and let Sara and Mick have their way. The room had remained unused but now that he was back it would finally be used again.

Sara smiled slightly at Leonard's silence and knew he wouldn't respond to her words and she was fine with that since she had suspected he wouldn't respond but she had felt the need to tell him she was glad to have him back with the team all the same. Maybe now things could get back to normal on the ship in a sense, though with Rip having left the team she wasn't entirely sure how normal things might get. All that mattered was that both Leonard and Laurel were here on the Waverider now and that they were alive. She now had a second chance with them both and she was determined not to allow that chance to slip away this time.

When he asked about her she visibly but briefly flinched, knowing her story, would reveal how things had gone after his death. She took a deep breath, preparing to begin the story before she chickened out completely. "Well after your death Rip took the rest of us back to 2016. We were against it but he really didn't give us a choice in the matter so when I got home I of course went to see my sister, only when I got to her place she wasn't there so of course I went to the arrow cave but the only one there was my father." She explained, "He told me the rest of the team was out fighting Damien Dhark and then he told me Dhark had murdered Laurel several months before my return."Her voice trembled slightly in grief but she forced herself to remain strong, not really wanting to break down in front of Leonard, not wanting to be weak.

I've got no strings To hold me down To make me fret, or make me frown I had strings But now I'm free There are no strings on me

Sara's flinch was foreboding, but he only ran a few likely scenarios in his mind; she was bound to tell him sooner or later regardless, and while he had a vivid imagination, the crew of the Waverider had a way of breaking even that imagination with how stupid or heroic they could be, at times. Sometimes even both at the same time, which never ceased to amaze him. It didn't surprise him anymore, but good lord, it was a wonder some of them hadn't died (more than once) so far. Well, except for Kendra, but she had had her moments of common sense. Moreso than her soulmate.

What a world they lived in, if magic and soulmates and reincarnation were becoming something 'normal' to him, as did resurrection and small matters like metahumans, the Speedforce and the Timestream. They were not quite physical objects, but they weren't as abstract an idea as he had at first understood them to be. The world, no, the universe truly was a strange place, and to be time traveling through it was still something of a marvel. And a bother, at times. He longed to see his sister, but he wasn't sure where the Waverider was now, and though he had the vague notion the voice in the back of his head might help, as did his uncanny new 'senses', for lack of a better word, he wasn't quite ready to dip his toes in that proverbial pool and see what was what. Baby steps, he reminded himself once more.

Potential meta powers might be awesome, they occasionally also were a bother, as he had seen with his Rogues. It took time to get control and full understanding of one's abilities, and he didn't plan to rush it or fuck it up for some reason. He was willing to take risks, to extend the boundaries some (or totally obliterate them) for some people, but there didn't seem to be any emergency going on right now. No need to borrow trouble yet.

It was with rapt attention that he listened, hands crossed and held upwards in his common resting pose as he parsed her words. "Well that was a bitch of a homecoming," he commented almost drily, though a mere imagining of what he would have felt if he had returned home to someone telling him something like that about Lisa he would've enlistened Mick to make the world burn. Fire wasn't his usual avenue of distraction or destruction, but it did make a grander statement and for more thorough annihilation than ice did. Besides, he liked to think that even after their recent... Disagreements, Mick cared enough about Lisa by now to fele he owed her that. Though he might have become a Legend, nobody would ever mistake him for a hero. He was a thief and a criminal and certainly not a do-gooder. And he was fairly certain Sara was, in a way, cut from the same cloth. She could've been a hero, once, maybe, but there was such a degree of darkness in her (recent) past, never mind what her resurrection left in her head... Yeah, she was no hero anymore either, and he doubted he took well to the news. "That's not when you got her back, though," he shrewdly noted, prompting her to continue. By his reckoning, this was pretty close after... After.

This was one of the first times Sara had been able to speak about Laurel's death in detail besides just saying that her older sister had been killed while she'd been away. Now she was able to admit the fact that Laurel had been murdered, taken away from her family and friends much too soon and while the others had tried to help Sara through her grief she hadn't been able to talk about Laurel's death much without breaking down, so she had held her head high and kept pushing onwards, not wanting anyone to see her as weak, even though deep down she knew that weak is the last thing any of them would see her as. But Leonard was different. Ever since she'd met him over a year before she had been able to talk to him about things she couldn't to anyone else and Laurel's death was no different.

She dipped her head in a nod, a sad small smile on her face as she thought of her older sister who had risked everything to resurrect her and then save Sara's soul. Laurel had done that for her and of course there was no way in hell that Sara wasn't going to just turn around and not do that for Laurel regardless of what Rip said. "It was one of the worst homecomings I ever faced." She admitted softly, "I wanted it so badly to be a horrible nightmare and wake up back on the Waverider but instead I had to live through one of my worst nightmares." She blinked back tears that threatened to leak from her eyes, "Something told me that when Rip recruited me he already knew that Laurel would die, that he knew and still got me to go with him so I was determined to make him take me back in time so I could save her. I even threatened his life." She said with a choked, almost bitter laugh.

"He told me he couldn't go back and save her. That even if I had been there that night, if I'd made the choice to remain behind in Star City rather then join him then not only would Laurel have died but my father and I would have died too. He told me the only timeline that he could save me and my father was this one, the one where I did join the Legends instead of staying behind with my friends and family." She sighed and looked away for a moment, taking a deep breath before continuing with her story, "Rip finally convinced me that while I couldn't save Laurel I could still help save Kendra and Carter and defeat Savage and we did finally defeat him and saved Kendra and Carter. They left the team but the rest of us stayed and I began searching for other ways to save Laurel." She admitted.

"A certain speedster and a new friend of everyone's helped me find a loophole and with Mick's help we were able to pull saving you and Laurel all off without screwing up the timeline too badly. At least not anymore then it already is."

Hey all, I'm Jess. I'm the owner and head admin of this lovely site. I'm a probably one of the world's biggest fans of our beautiful Canary sisters Laurel and Sara Lance. I'm a huge crossover shipper as well as shipping some canons from the shows.

I've gotten into making some graphics lately which for the time being only consists of icons but I will eventually be learning to make other things. If you'd like to know more about me just send me a message on one of my profiles.

Oh hey! I'm MTA and I like a lot of things. Arrow of course, but besides that I know pretty much everything about Captain America and Batman. I'm also a big comic book fan! I do the site coding and some of the graphics here. I'm always looking to thread with people, so don't hesitate to throw an idea out there!

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